


Poetry

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Gen, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Riding in the moonlight leaves Doc feeling poetic.<br/>Disclaimer:  Beyond not mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry

Exhaustion wormed its way down into John Holliday's bones. A little nip from his flask would help, but it seemed almost too much effort to reach down into his pocket and fish it out. At least his horse was the one doing the walking, he just had to stay firmly in the saddle. Not that difficult, Wyatt had chosen the horses well from his own riata, at least his own was a sure-footed beast, with an easy gait. 

Overhead, the full moon lit their way. If Doc wasn't so tired, he'd make a comment on how poetic it was, to be pursuing their prey through the night. Instead, he kept his mouth shut, resting his hands on the horn of his saddle, his hat tipped up a bit to let the moonlight illuminate the path ahead of them. 

Wyatt led the way, as always, with Creek, and Texas Jack following behind his own horse. Doc appreciated their concern, even if he knew there was no need of it, not at the moment. He was only tired, not sick, and even sick, he'd still have come along on this mission with Wyatt. Morgan had been his friend, too; almost his own little brother. Avenging his death was not all they were riding for, but to break the Clanton-McLaury gang into so many pieces, they would never be able to put it back together. 

"Like Humpty-Dumpty," Doc murmured. 

"What'd you say, Doc?" Wyatt glanced back over his shoulder, the shadow of the brim of his hat not enough to hide his concern. 

"Poetry, Wyatt." Doc mustered a smile, waving his fingers languidly. "Poetry to recite under the light of the moon."


End file.
